The Return of the Magi: Legetum Extrema Morta
by SiriusRaven
Summary: When night comes thatevil begins her blight, the forces of old will rise to fight. The Magi will return from their grave in their new army.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material that you are about to read concerning Harry Potter. I only own the intricate plot and the characters of necessity that are placed around it. J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing, Inc. own everything else; therefore you are left to the factual conclusion that I am making no money in any form off the Internet distribution of this fan fiction.  
  
Author's Note in Concern for the following literary art: This "work" in all accounts must be taken seriously. You must have a mature enough mind to be able to stand things such as extreme violence, graphic descriptions, and sometimes-extreme sexual situations. You have been warned as to what to expect, for inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry there arrives a tale unlike any other to pour from the halls of learning. The Wizarding world itself becomes affected by the tragic story of one boy and a group of his friends in the tragic history derived directly from the walls of the old fortress. A tale of greed, lust, loves, death, sorrow, and power shrouds year six of Harry Potter.  
  
Legatum Extrema Morta  
  
Dear One,  
  
Can we not say enough to make you forget your pain? Cannot we call upon the gods to make you have your way? Vintae Denus! No, we cannot call a god, for you shall become one.  
  
Chapter One  
  
A dreary haze of left over sunlight floated to Privet Drive's small corner on the earth's crust. It's perfectly kept lawns and amazingly clean houses glistened in the sunlight overshadowing even the smallest blemish in Little Whinging, Surrey. It would be perfect paradise for any family in the world to raise their children without threat of gangs, drugs, or any of the other obscenities that seemed to have parents worry constantly about their children.  
  
Every resident up and down the street would think this almost immediately as a description of their perfect little abode with its green lawns and trimmed hedges. There was, however, something that did appear to become a blemish on Number 4's record. It was over looked by almost everyone with the exception of the three-member family living there.  
  
Normally, one would not be bothered by a broken pair of glasses lying in their front yard about seven in the evening. These people, the Dursleys, were the exception. They became extremely worried when they found a broken pair of glasses reflecting the sun shining rays to the luscious green grass. What added to their worry even more was the lack of an owner behind the glasses. Normally they knew exactly what would be there, but this evening things were different. Laying the glasses on the table, Mr. Dursley sat down with his underweight giraffe of a wife and overweight whale of a sun and stared quietly at the glasses. They were sitting directly in front of slim boy of about fifteen with messy raven black hair and piercing green eyes. Shaking with anger, Mr. Dursley opened his mouth.  
  
"What," he sneered, "do you think you were doing boy? Are you trying to let everyone in Britain know that we have a freak living with us?"  
  
The black haired boy wore a defiant look as he replied to the man who was supposed to be his guardian. "Yes Uncle Vernon," he said sarcastically, "That is precisely what I am trying to do. I am absolutely dying to let all of Britain I know that I am under the guardianship of a FAT-"  
  
At this Vernon Dursley and his son Dudley rose from their chair with scandalized look on their porky faces, "Do not finish that statement Potter," called the older man.  
  
"UGLY-"  
  
A long stick had been produced out of his cousin's hand and was now being pointed threateningly towards Harry, but the boy gave a flashing smile and finished, "PIG!"  
  
Wham! The boy-who-lived found himself flying at an enormous speed against the wall behind him. Pain rippled through his body at the look of great humor filling his uncle's face. That was the first time the Dursleys had ever hit him; too bad it would not be the last.  
  
A swift kick to the ribs soon followed the massive pain of the backhand that had stung his face. Blood poured from the bruised damaged cheek and ribs cracked under mighty force. Harry felt one pierce something inside his body.  
  
Vernon Dursleys' manic laughter filled the room at the look of his fallen prey. Fire in two beady black eyes gave into the desire for pain and death. It was though a predator had taken over the man. "Let's see you ever go back to that school again boy!" he screamed. "If you call your friends I will know, and before they arrive I will kill you. I will bring you death unlike anything you have ever heard of. You will die Potter; you will die at my hands!"  
  
Another kick to the abdomen made the teenager break into to tears despite the pain he was feeling. If only Sirius was here; if only Sirius had not die. The boy's eyes glazed over at the thought of his godfather. "Why did you leave me?" he whispered to himself. "Why couldn't I save you?"  
  
Dudley just laughed at his crying cousin. "You have no tolerance for pain Potter," he laughed. I wish I could get you in the ring with me, and I would show you pain."  
  
The next thing the teenage wizard knew, the youngest of his family was throwing punch after punch into his face, much to the humor of his aunt and uncle. Moments later a gulf of blackness covered Harry Potter, and a Ministry of Magic official in London, England signaled for an immediate call to arms. According to the magical life sensory, a wizard had just died at Number 4 Privet Drive; everyone knew that the only magical resident there was the future of the wizarding world.  
  
Vernon and Petunia panicked at the sight of their dead nephew. They tried to hide the body in the cupboard under the stairs, but it was burning to their touch. For some reason they could not even touch the corpse. "Dudley," started Vernon, "run to the car!" But the fat teenager could not budge.  
  
Standing in the landing were three black robed figures whose faces were covered by their dark hoods. The leader raised his hand and silenced the large chunk of human starting to yell at him. "I come for the body of Harry Potter mortal," it said quietly. After only a few short seconds the three had gone from the Dursleys' house leaving behind only a charred shell of something that appeared to be a body of their nephew.  
  
As soon as the three mysterious creatures had come and left, the front door splintered open with the shattering effects of the Reductor Curse. Once again Vernon began trying to run, but a yellow beam caught him square in the chest as he turned around.  
  
"Vernon Dursley," began a cold gruff voice full of some kind of deep sorrow. The magical eyes of Mad-Eye Moody entered out of the dark corner of the pantry and flicked his wand. Green ropes flowed from the magical channel and wrapped around the porky man. "You are under arrest for the torture and murder of one Lord Harry Potter."  
  
A/N: Sometimes my writing is decent. Sometimes it is not. I hope this is one of the times in which it is. If you do not like, please feel free to tell me; usually, however, I will not care. Also try and take a chance to review if you like, those I will respond to. Then again, I will respond to the one that don't like as well. Either way I am going to respond.  
  
Next Chapter: Expect it to be much longer.  
  
-Who were the three robed figures briefly mentioned in the first chapter?  
  
-The funeral of Harry potter  
  
-Dumbledore cries 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material that you are about to read concerning Harry Potter. I only own the intricate plot and the characters of necessity that are placed around it. J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing, Inc. own everything else; therefore you are left to the factual conclusion that I am making no money in any form off the Internet distribution of this fan fiction.  
  
Author's Note concerning the literary work in which you are about to read: I am writing this as I go so this chapter will be regulated from the emotions I just have to feel in regards to the death of our heroic teenager, Harry Potter. I know some of you are ready to kill me after a good round of torturing, but I am afraid death cannot bring back the dead man. Besides, if you kill me, how will you know if the Boy-who-lived will ever return? Anyway, I want to remind you all of one important fact to remember from last chapter. I mentioned in one paragraph, just one now, that Harry's body had been taken away by three masked creatures; go back and look for it if you have to for it will play a very important part in this fan fiction.  
  
Legatum Extrema Morta  
  
With the dead falling there rises the life. The future is determined by the end of the past. Behold, the Harbinger comes with a message. His pain is over, but it has only just begun.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
A holy wind seemed to blow through the crystal white palace that stood upon the bright hill of ice. Blue and purple spectrums of color danced before thousands of small creatures running around as servants to the masters and mistresses of the palace. Snow seemed to reflect the beauty of the sun that shined bright, but did not melt the great plains of ice. Its entire beauty radiated to all those who surrounded it, calming even the most instinctive rage that could escape on to its grounds.  
  
To the back of the great palace, rode three beings clothed in a deep black, but even that deep black could not hide the beauty of the silver haired creatures upon which they rode. No man with any sense could deny what they were seeing; for within the shadows of the crystal palace their rode three unicorns. Immediately, the back gate opened to let the mysterious riders in. The small servants who kept the gate knew their masters and mistresses would know whom the visitors and what their great package could be.  
  
As soon as the black riders had entered the gate, the unicorns stopped and knelt to let them down from their massive backs. Black robes flew their shoulder to reveal three identical men with long blond hair and deep blue eyes. Within the next second, the three had moved extremely close and appeared to have merged together. The Trinity had returned to the Crystal Palace of Rane.  
  
The many little beings could not help be amazed at the site of the beautiful thing they saw being gently pulled from the form of the bright and mighty unicorns. The legendary beast sent even the magical servants in awe at their greatness. "Master," called one to the shining blond god, "what have you brought to us."  
  
It seemed to them that a great sorrow feel upon their master at the mention of the boy. His blue eyes almost began to cry as they watered to the brim. Unrolling the cloth from the head, disfigured bones and bruising became evident amidst raven black hair and pale skin. "He is a mortal," came the echoing voice of the Trinity. "He is dead to the mortal world, but as I am life, so shall he be. As I am time, he shall embody it. As I am fate, he will command it. Behold, the dead comes to life."  
  
The little creatures nodded at the last statement and went back to work as the Great One carried the broken mortal within the Palace. They knew the Master would help the fallen boy; they also knew the fallen one would never be the same.  
  
And so it happened that as the Great One carried Harry Potter's beaten, dead body into the corridors of Crystal Palace, it began to breath sharply. Great intakes of breath were produced from the body. The Trinity placed his lips firmly on those of the teenage boys and exhaled his on being into his. Moments later, the bruising and breaking were being repaired and green eyes shot open and stared into those of a god.  
  
"Who are you?" came the deep voice of a now fifteen-year-old boy. This time it was not like that of his former one, but it echoed like that of the Trinity's.  
  
"I," began the blond haired god, "am what some call the Trinity. I am Life, Time, and Fate."  
  
Harry could not help but to feel relaxed at the One's soothing voice. His emerald eyes searched across his surroundings beyond the arms of his comforter. "Are you God and is this heaven?"  
  
The god chuckled at what Harry was asking him, but it was not the first time he was being compared to Jehovah. "I am not the great Jehovah, for even I was created by him. Jehovah is and will always be," he said with an amused tone. "I am however one of the lesser divines. I am a god, but not the god. I believe mortals call us Archangels. You may call be Gabriel, the Harbinger."  
  
The teenager closed his eyes in acknowledgement. That could only mean that he was dead. If he was with gods and angels, then he must be in heaven. Before he could even ask a question concerning his location, Gabriel seemed to have read his mind and prepared an answer.  
  
"You are not in Heaven Master Potter," he began. Seeing the look of horror on Harry's face, the archangel added, "But you are not in Hell. Instead, you now reside in the Halls of the Gods. This is the land of Rane, and you are very much alive right now. Soon you will return to the mortal realm, but you will not be the same. You will be of great power and stronger than you were before."  
  
Harry could have cried at hearing he would return to his life. He would return to the Dursleys, to a lying Dumbledore, to secretive friends, and what is more, a life without Sirius. Even in what he thought would be death, he would not see Sirius. "Why me?" he whispered within the great arms of the Trinity.  
  
Gabriel did not answer him though. Instead, a great echoing voice, full of authority and power replied to the question. "Because you are the one chosen to be the messenger of the One true God. You shall be the One sent by Jehovah. You will be my messenger where evil is. You will be given power beyond your years, and you will go into the earth and rid the world of the great evil. The one sent before you did it once, but now your time has come."  
  
In the next second, scenes began to flash before his eyes. In a few moments he saw within his mind the smiling face of Sirius Black encouraging him to go forward. Next there was something he had seen only once in an echo of the past. His mother and father were whispering for him that he could do. All at once he could here their voices and a comforting peace filled him. "We are proud of you son."  
  
Then he began drifting. He was no longer in Gabriel's arms as he began to slowly drift from the confinements of Rane. In the next moment he found himself outside the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry listening to Albus Dumbledore's old voice sound burden with sadness at the start of the term speech.  
  
"This summer, a great death came upon us," he said, barely above a whisper. Harry could hear small sobs of grief call out at the proclamation. "The last hope of our world died. When Harry Potter entered into the world, he entered into as a part of a great prophecy made shortly before he was born. The prophecy said that only he could be the one to defeat Voldemort, for the Dark Lord would not know of a power he had. Now Harry potter is dead, and Lord Voldemort will continue to live. While we may be able to hold him at bay, from now on, the Wizarding world will forever be at war. Harry Potter, Lord Gryffindor, is dead."  
  
Then Harry heard it. There was a murmur of more sobs, but over the amplified voice, he heard the mournful crying of Albus Dumbledore. The world's greatest wizard cried.  
  
Next Chapter  
  
-Harry is back.  
  
-Bad habits die hard. 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material that you are about to read concerning Harry Potter. I only own the intricate plot and the characters of necessity that are placed around it. J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing, Inc. own everything else; therefore you are left to the factual conclusion that I am making no money in any form off the Internet distribution of this fan fiction.  
  
Author's note (forgive me for leaving off the rest of this statement): Ok, I have not read any reviews at this point so I cannot very well respond. I am sure you all have figured out that the boy formally known as Harry Potter is in fact alive. I would like you all to pay particularly close attention to this fact and every event surrounding it. "Why?" you ask. I am not entirely sure, as I said I am writing this as I type it into my computer so it is all off the top of my head. I am done with al the emotional hoopla for a while also. Let the story begin then.  
  
Legetum Extrema Morta  
  
Little one, do not fear for the messenger. In the darkness it rises like a phoenix. Its light pierces the sky and makes known that life has begun. Behold the messenger comes; with him comes Justice.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Harry only sat listening tot he cries that seemed everything but normal to him. Was it true that so many loved him or was it their on life that they cared about? Knowing his friends, they would care for him, but what of all the others that he could hear bawling their eyes out at the thought of him dying? Was he really this important? With a silent prayer to Jehovah his worries diminished and he once again listened to Dumbledore go on with his speech.  
  
"Many of you will wonder why we cannot defeat the one called Voldemort," started the Headmaster again, slightly regaining his composure. "It is because Lord Voldemort is not a mortal; he is a demon. Spawned from the Dark One, the creature spreads his evil across all the earth until one rises to challenge him. That one was our deceased Gryffindor, so as the war goes on, let us remember the one who could have saved us. Let us all remember Harry Potter."  
  
It was as this point that the Gryffindor could not stand waiting outside the door. He could not just let them mourn him, and he do nothing about it. The people had to know that hope still existed in the world. It was then that he realized what had happened to him.  
  
Instead of the scrawny teenage boy in normally baggy clothes, he saw something completely different in the mirror opposite of the Great Hall's entrance. There was a teller, more muscular black haired boy gazing back as his reflection. His green eyes peered at the reflected white robes, shimmering with faint silver. So it was all true, he had been given the power.  
  
Suddenly the knowledge of what he had been given flooded his mind and almost knocked him over with its force. It was amazing to feel the great magical existence running through him. All around him he could feel the life within the castle itself. He could feel the life of the magic in very being within the Great Hall. He could feel their true sorrow.  
  
With a great effort, the teenager pushed open the two massive doors of the Great Hall. The lights flickered out despite the magical candles holding them. The surge of magical energy coming from the students in the room began to react with his own. A glorious song filled the room, its peaceful melody bouncing from corner to corner of the Hall.  
  
Despite the previous wails of tears, the room suddenly got completely silent as Harry walked into the Hall. Moving through the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, he slowly approached the staff table where a very stunned Albus Dumbledore stared down at him through the light of occasional lightening from the ceiling above.  
  
"Hello Professor," he said in a small whisper. "It has been a while hasn't it?"  
  
The Headmaster barely nodded at the boy peering at him. The boy merely nodded with a light smile as though to confirm to the old man that he really was there. Finally, after much internal deliberation, the Headmaster spoke back. "Thank you God."  
  
Quickly regaining the composure he had lost seeing the boy walk into the Great Hall, the former Transfiguration professor stood up again before the students. "My students," he said through a bright smile and giddy tears of joy, "I am sure you all would like to cheer now, seeing as how the one standing in front of us is definitely Harry Potter; however, I cannot allow you to question Harry tonight."  
  
Without another word, the Boy-who-lived was swept up to the staff table by the combined efforts of Dumbledore and Severus Snape. Walking briskly, the long silver hair of Dumbledore's beard seemed to point the way. There were several angry burst of protest has the teenager and the two teachers walked from the room.  
  
Flames of torchlight blinded Harry when he walked into the very familiar room. He had been here once two years ago; it was in this room he became a Triwizard Champion for Hogwarts. "It was here that I first began the process to kill Cedric Diggory," he whispered to his mind. Despite all the power he now harbored, he still blamed himself for the deaths that had been caused at the hands of Lord Voldemort. But three words almost comforted his yearning soul. "Thank you God." Someone did care.  
  
Instead of the Headmaster, a very angry Potions Master was the first to start when the boy was finally seated. His brown eyes carried perhaps an even darker shadow than his greasy black hair when he looked at Harry. It was no ordinary look; it was the loathing they had for each other. "Mr. Potter!" he began, raising his voice. Harry merely closed his eyes to prepare for the rebuke about to escape the older man. "What in Hell did you think you were doing?"  
  
"Calm down Severus," interjected the old professor at Snape's choice of words. Harry swore he could see a slight twinkle in them.  
  
"Forgive me Headmaster," he said taking a breath to regulate control to his body once again. "As I was saying, Mr. Potter you have completely disgraced noble wizardry at its best. You have fooled the world into believing you were dead just a bit of attention."  
  
"That will do Severus," said a deep commanding voice that had power radiating just from it projection. The voice, however, did not belong to the Headmaster; it was the boy's. "It would seem that old habits die hard.  
  
Pure malice lined every wrinkle on Snape's pale face at Potter's insolence. Drawing his wand he pointed it at the boy, causing Dumbledore to jump up, but he sat down when he saw what Snape was about to do. "Do you see this wand Potter?" he asked in a dangerous voice. "Look at it closely and see if you can tell me that you wish to be so cheeky now."  
  
At the confused look on his face, the teacher pushed forward. "You see Potter, I have power beyond you. You are only a student! I am the teacher! Therefore, you will obey me and drop the insolent attitude that seems to possess your very being. Is that understood boy?"  
  
At this point Harry was almost smiling at the comical scene unfolding. He could not disrespect his teachers and expect to get away of it; he knew that much. The problem was, it seemed so much fun to torment the greasy git that he could not resist it. Suddenly his mind was cut off by a yell of primal rage erupting from the angry man.  
  
"Damnit Potter! Can you only smile in return to a rebuke?!" he yelled.  
  
At this point the teenager flashed a look over to Albus who seemed to be studying the whole scene, almost as if he was pushing Harry. Suddenly it all came clear to him what was happening. Snape and Dumbledore were trying to see if he had changed since he had died. Both of the professors knew he had died, the Ministry of Magic could prove that. They just wanted to see if he had changed! "They're using me," he thought to himself.  
  
Closing his eyes instinct took over, and he reached into the mind of his two professors. The strong mental sheilds normally would have kept an Occulmanist out, but they could not stand against his powerful instinctive magic. He felt the excitement and anticipation of each, but he also felt the desire to harvest the unknown power. Breaking the mind link he glared towards Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"You," he began to hiss, "have lied to me, stuck me into a home with abusive muggles, got me murdered, and indirectly caused the death of my parents and godfather-"  
  
"Harry," interrupted the old voice, burdened with some great load he would share with no one. Raising his wand, he prepared to place a calming charm on Harry.  
  
The silver and white robed being in front of Dumbledore was no longer any normal mortal. With speed like lightening, his right hand was up, and the Headmaster's wand flew from his bony grasp. "You will not being doing that just now Professor," he sneered. "You will listen to me and what I want."  
  
This time the anger that burst from Snape was not some cover to get reaction out of Harry as the Potions Master started to attack and defend Albus. The Boy-who-lived swirled around on his foot and faced the attacking man. Drawing his wand, unholy lightening flashed around the him as though he was a diety. Power soared through his arms, and the wand twirled into a striking position, sending a burst of red light into Snape's chest. Regaing his composure, the wizard attacked again coming in contact with sudden purple fire erupting from an unseen source in the room and covering knocking him unconscious.  
  
"Apparently," whispered Harry, "old habits die hard."  
  
A/N: At this point many of you are completely stunned at what I just produced from Harry potter. Your reaction to it is going to be, "No, it won't happen like that. Harry would not do that to Albus." I would like to remind you of the tirade that happened at the end of the OotP; Harry did have such a rampage. At this point, the stress of being lied to and left to his death is finally getting the best of Mr. Potter. Now, unlike last term, he has the power to change how people treat him One- they need him to defeat Lord Voldie, and two- he has power now that was rivaled only by Merlin himself, the last mortal to enter Rane. So you see, everything I just said is very much possible. This is not a superpower Harry story though. You will see what I mean in later chapters; Harry is not all powerful as he may seem.  
  
Next Chapter:  
  
-Dumbledore is knocked down a little  
  
-We hear from Lord Voldemort  
  
-Unexpected Deatheater 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material that you are about to read concerning Harry Potter. I only own the intricate plot and the characters of necessity that are placed around it. J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing, Inc. own everything else; therefore you are left to the factual conclusion that I am making no money in any form off the Internet distribution of this fan fiction.  
  
Author's Note concerning the following piece of literary work in which you are about to read: Harry Potter, in no fashion form or way, is the divine superpower that will completely destroy everyone. He is coming into a certain kind of power that will define him for the rest of his wizarding career. Mr. Potter is the son of a mortal and always will be; however, the One God decided to embody him with the powers of a Ranian Mage. The last Ranian Mage was none other than Merlin. In process with gaining these powers, Harry has to have knowledge of them. As such, he is gaining the knowledge and memories of archangels and Merlin himself. I hope that in some way explains the fine details of this fan fiction.  
  
Legetum Extrema Morta  
  
Darkness shadows the Phoenix's power. What do we do Little One? Why are you not a god? Vintae Denus! The god of darkness has entered our world, and we have left no defender but a babe.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Cold whispers of silent wind eroded the sharp walls of stone supporting the ancient ceiling within the great manor outside of Little Hangton. In a mass of late evning's silent rhapsody, screams of pure horror erupted out of a small house sitting on the outskirts of the rural village. The screams were unlike any a mortal could imagine, but the villagers almost seemed immune to them. Only the tears in their eyes as they listened helplessly to the yells of an unknown man showed any form of remorse. They knew what was happening; the villagers of Little Hangton knew what beast lied within those walls.  
  
The lights were almost completely out on the inside of the old Victorian. Two black robed figures laughed behind masks as they saw the massacre by a dim fireplace on the far wall of the den. Two men were cowering, almost naked but still staring defiantly into dark red eyes of a killer. The killer's long, greasy black hair moved slightly with the forming of a cruel smile formed on its snake-like face. Nostril slits almost breathed fire on its pale white skin as it spoke.  
  
"I am a patient man, but I will not tolerate your disrespect!" it screamed. The beast yanked one of the men to his feet by the collar of a torn robe. "Now, you have one more chance to tell me where is Harry Potter."  
  
His brown eyes flickered with uncontrolled fear; normally tanned skin lost all color as he looked into the red irises of the captor. The obvious fear did not bind him though; rising his head defiantly he hissed in reply. "Go to hell Voldemort."  
  
Brown hair floated in the air behind him with the momentum of the sudden running being produced by his feet as he dislodged himself form the Dark Lord's grip. The man knew he could not escape the creature, but maybe he could give his brother a chance to warn Ministry. He had to distract him. Grabbing a sword from atop of the mantelpiece, the brown haired one swung his sword with the lack of skill that could signify only a novice. It did not matter though, he had mission and with it came a death wish.  
  
Lord Voldemort grinned, showing his needle sharp teeth. "This is not something you want to do mortal," he called aloud.  
  
With a wave of the Dark One's hand, the charging figure was snapped forward and lifted by an invisible force in the air. Muscle split as skin tore apart revealing a long spine being shoved into the stuffy air of the manor. Blood spewed everywhere with the soft crack of a head dropping to the floor, laying inches away from its mangled body  
  
The other cowering wizard had made escape to a small room on the second floor. He sat cuddled into a ball in the corner, dust scattering with shaking muscles. Tears were not being held back as the pain of shock gave in and swept over the bald head. The wind slapped slightly against the window causing him to jump with fear. The steps were creaking under the weight of something slowly ascending them. Death was coming cloaked in the horrors of the night surrounding Little Hangton, but not one could get to him where he was, no one.  
  
Then there was a cackling voice cracking with power behind him a barely audible whisper, "Prepare to die a very painful death."  
  
He saw the cold red eyes staring into him and knew Death was a very long way off, "Somebody, help me."  
  
***  
  
Hundreds of miles away the same plea rippled through the magical aura surrounding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Within the small side room that Harry and the two stunned professors sat talking, a ripple in the pool of magic brought them back to their surroundings with a massive reality check.  
  
Dumbledore's eyes shot towards the window as though he was hoping to catch a glance of the one pleading for help, but Harry called for his attention again. "It is Lord Voldemort sir," he whispered, barely audible because of the cackling orange fire now raging in the fireplace.  
  
Silver hair stood on edge with sudden movements of the aged professors. Power surrounded the wizard with his standing. "We must alert the Order," he said to no one in particular. "This could be our chance to get to him."  
  
Reaching his hand forward, Harry sent out a magical wind that caused Dumbledore to fly back into the squishy armchair. This would look bad to anyone who did not know the history between the student and his headmaster, but the boy did not care. He could not allow anyone else to get hurt because of him.  
  
"Professor," he countered, "you must think of what you are thinking-"  
  
"No, you must think Mr. Potter," he cut in, not allowing the young wizard time to speak. He once again stretched out his wand, which sped towards the open palm. "You may be powerful now Harry, but I will not allow you to intervene where help is needed," sending bright sparks of purple into the fire, the Headmaster turned to speak into it, but Harry once again intervened.  
  
Raising his hand, the young one's eyes flashed with sudden power. Drawing on the energy around him, he stifled the fire a prod from his finger. Darkness covered the room, but Dumbledore was too fast. Moments later Harry felt himself being hit by a quiet red blast from a stunning spell. Moments later, barely phased by the stunner, he heard, "Lumos Flarous."  
  
Light soared into the room from all different points. The old man could barely hold back a gasp at the fact that Harry was still standing. What was more was the fast rise of the boy's wand and a sudden "Explarimus" being called barely above a whisper.  
  
With grace of a swan the older wizard sidestepped the disarming charm, now wondering why his student was trying to prevent him from getting help. Another disarming spell caused him to counter with, "Protego!"  
  
The disarmer disappeared on the shield, but it did not keep Harry from dodging for his own cover. Both wizards were moving with speed and agility like either had thought their opponents capable of. Trying to end the battle Harry rolled from behind one of the armchairs and pointed his wand in front of him.  
  
"Extrema Explarimus!" cried the teenager.  
  
Immediately upon the impact of the spell Dumbledore's shield broke and his wand soared from hand and into a far corner of the room. Surprisingly this did not seem to stop him; with a wave of his hand the two armchairs next to Harry jumped to attention and bound the young wizard only to be blasted away by a quick Reductor Curse.  
  
Old blue eyes were not affected by the sudden flash from the curse, but instead reacted with more speed and precision. Raising his arm to do the final blow that would stop the boy, he saw something out of the corner of his eye causing him to lose concentration, a very big mistake in common dueling.  
  
The Illusion Jinx was enough to throw the old man off his guard, and Potter used it to his advantage, snapping to offensive position once again. Albus never even heard the words come out of the young one's mouth before he was completely bound by magical ropes. For extra, there was a quick Leg-locker curse added to the bindings.  
  
"You may not be able to allow me to interfere sir, but I will not cause anymore people to be killed because of me," he whispered tiredly. If the battle had gone any longer he knew Albus would have won. He just thanked Jehovah that there was the small distraction. "You must remember sir that I am the only one that can kill Lord Voldemort. The Order members would have been killed."  
  
A sudden realization dawned on Harry as he realized what the boy had said was in fact completely true. Had he sent those he wanted to after the Dark Lord, he might as well have been signing their death wish. The powerful wizard would have massacred the Order members if they had tried to destroy him.  
  
Seeing the soft lines of realization on Albus' face, he flicked his wand and muttered, "Finite Incantum." The bindings fell off the Headmaster who in turn got up and summoned his wand.  
  
"I am sorry for not realizing that Mr. Potter," he said, a slight twinkle at their predicament glazed his eyes. Then he changed to a sad expression, "It unnerves me to know that I have sent so many to their deaths because of my ignorance at this small fact."  
  
By this point Snape had woken up, but was still bound by a full body bind during the painstaking duel. Looking at Harry in new eyes, the Potions Master nodded and agreement before promptly passing out in stunned amazement.  
  
Laughing, Dumbledore replied for the unconscious man, "I think he is surprised at what you just did to me." Once again the smile faded and the look of sobriety was back. "I think it is time that we include you tell us all a bit more of the Land of Rane Mr. Potter. I for one would like to know exactly what Professor Snape wants to."  
  
"As you wish Professor Dumbledore," he sighed once again thanking every deity for in the universe for an Illusion Jinx.  
  
A/N: How interesting hmm? I hoped the dueling scene caused you all a bit of pleasure. Be expecting more and larger duels within the next few chapters. There are another two coming who our favorite wizard wants to have a few dealings with.  
  
Ebony Moonlight: I am glad you like it; I try my best. Yes you are right, my story does have some religion in it, but it is not as much as you may think.  
  
Next Chapter:  
  
-A story is told  
  
-Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, the murders of Harry Potter. 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material that you are about to read concerning Harry Potter. I only own the intricate plot and the characters of necessity that are placed around it. J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing, Inc. own everything else; therefore you are left to the factual conclusion that I am making no money in any form off the Internet distribution of this fan fiction.  
  
Author's Note concerning the following literary work: Ok, for some this chapter may seem a little confusing. Do not worry if it does, I will clarify the intent of it all so don't worry too much if you do not understand it. I would like to point out that the spell I used in Chapter four is in fact an accurate way of doing something. I added "Extrema" before the actual disarming charm. In Latin, saying extrema adds emphasis to something; therefore, I added emphasis and power to the disarming spell. I am glad I got that all cleared up. You all also saw the powers of Lord Voldemort in action; now you see why I say this is not a superpower Harry story. If any one is the superpower it is Lord Voldemort. The power exemplified on the defiant wizards pale in comparison to his true and actual power. You all will find that out in chapters to come. Also let me address the fact that there is something very small you need to pay attention to. Albus Dumbledore is still a better dueler than Harry. If it were not for the fact Dumbledore was not expecting the Illusion Jinx, he would have defeated Harry. Ok, that is all for now. Good-bye.  
  
Legetum Extrema Morta  
  
Denus, your answer makes does so small in amount. Why is the Little One in so much pain? Oh Dear One grow into your name!  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Before Harry even had a chance to begin to explain his story, Dumbledore had already revived Snape and called what seemed to be the entire teaching staff into the room. Sighing, the Boy-who-lived hung his head in exasperation. It was going to be a very long time before he got back up to the common room.  
  
"Mr. Potter," announced Dumbledore with a burst of twinkling blue eyes, "has agreed to inform us of what all happened during the time he was dead. Unless I am much mistaken, all of us saw his body and confirmed his death. I think it is time to find out where he really was."  
  
The teenage wizard nodded his consent and was only briefly distracted with Professor Flitwick falling from his chair in excitement. Trying to hold back the laughter he began at the beginning of what would be a very long tale.  
  
"Within the corridors of Hell a battle beyond any thoughts of mortal mind raged furiously within evil itself. Lucifer, the Fallen Angel and Prince of Darkness, battled for absolute control over the demonic creatures spawned by pride and envy, the Rutal. They were humans, plagued by the sins of their mortal existence, desiring power to rival the Evil One-" he said being cutoff by a snort from the direction of Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Potter," she laughed, "Are you going to tell us some religious tale now?"  
  
Amongst the laughter of the staff, Dumbledore produced a simple smile and waved for Harry to continue. Obviously, the gesture from the Headmaster was enough to silence the doubtful Transfiguration professor. Sometimes she really could be a bother. Taking a deep breath he continued.  
  
"Their evil queen, Jezebel, led the Rutal on a massive attack against their captors in Hell, overtaking the Prince of Darkness' kingdom and beginning a rule of terror on earth." At this point he made a dramatic pause to gather his thoughts. The tough part was coming up.  
  
"With power drawn from the blood of Satan, Jezebel developed power unlike any of the immortals. With a thirst for revenge against mortal man she unleashed a portal to a land long forgotten in the history of the race of men. Orcs, legendary beast thought to have great strength but dim wits, spewed from the open portal and entered in the land of men. Against her will a group of elven warriors also entered the new, technologically advanced war. Afraid of the technology, the orcs destroyed it and drove the humans into small colonies scattered around the world.  
  
"An entire millennia had passed since the fall of men; the elves were in constant battle with the slowly dying orcs. Without technology to cause fear the other ancient races had returned from their hiding places beneath the earth and in remote areas far from civilization. The dwarves, short and stout miners, were the only ones to have any contact with the orica (orcs). Their great weapons, forged in the fires of the world's deepest volcanoes supplied the misfit army with hard weapons, strong and heavy. The elves lacked respect for either group and choose to take a small group of men into their watch. Breeding between humans and elven women caused a powerful new race to evolve. The first and greatest of the race they named Merlin," finished Harry. Now it was time for him to tell them about the Magi, as if they would believe too much of it.  
  
" Skin, soft with the features of the elves but thick like humans, covered finally toned muscles. Light colors adorned their eyes, matching perfectly with long flowing hair that dropped down their backs. As a gift from the gods in attempt to overthrow the great evil, the new race was given powers beyond the comprehension of any mortals. Magical auroras surrounded them, radiating power from the tanned skin. They were the Mages of Rane, the most powerful race to ever walk upon the earth.  
  
"The Magi attacked the orica and the dwarves, driving them far underground to the lost civilizations. The powerful Elven warriors stayed with men as the Magi followed into the underworld, to forever guard over the evil that lay beneath the surface of the earth. To forever guard against the Barbarian Hoard, the Rutal. I professors, am a mage of Rane. I am the first to walk upon the world we know since Lord Merlin."  
  
Stunned silence was all that followed Harry's proclamation. None of the wizards and witches surrounding him in the squishy armchairs knew what to say. They were astonished that something so powerful could have been hidden from them. Professor Trelawny seemed to find her duty to question him.  
  
"It would seem that you want us to believe that a thousand year war happened without even so much as anyone in history knowing. Am I correct?" she asked, a inquiring smile playing on her face.  
  
The boy could have laughed, but once again he refrained from it. By this point he was very tired and very hungry. Irritation at even the slightest thing was starting to build up. Somehow he managed to suppress the sarcastic answer he wished to give the professor. "The elves blended in with men and slowly began to leave their identities hidden. The legend of their existence became nothing more than fairy tales wrote about by the scribes of the early days. Technology slowly began to evolve back into life and industry boomed once again. It was as nothing had changed about the human existence; life was as it was before the plague of darkness and war that had swept across Earth. It was the perfect chance for Jezebel to intervene.  
  
"Using her unnatural powers she wiped the memory of the two millennia from the minds of men. The only to remember were the elves. Not knowing of their existence, the evil queen ignored the champions of the old wars; Eliha, an ancestor of the biblical prophet Elijah, made one prophesy that would forever echo through the Dark One's mind:  
  
"When the eve of battle strikes, the lords of men will rise in fear. But, the champions of old will return to fight for the long forsaken light. The Mages will wait until the night when Terror begins her blight," he answered quietly silently preparing himself for the tirade of questions that were about to pour out of his professors.  
  
At this point Professor Trelawny promptly shut his mouth in acceptance, no matter how shaky it may be. There was something about that just seemed to ring true. She could not deny the fact that the story sounded strange, but there was an air of truth about it. If it was true, why did a seer not know it to be so?  
  
Professor McGonagall was the one who interrupted her thoughts with another skeptical comment. "Mr. Potter, do you really think that we are going to believe all of this?"  
  
Instead of Harry answer though, Dumbledore was the one who replied to the Transfiguration professor. "Minerva, I think it explains a great deal. Like why is Merlin legend to live so long ago and be so powerful, when Arthur only live supposedly 1500 years ago," he said. "I would also like to point out that Mr. Potter mentioned the High Elves; the High Elves went extinct years ago and are not taught about until the graduate level of our education programs. I think we can only conclude that Mr. Potter is indeed telling the truth."  
  
Sudden realization dawned on McGonagall with her superior's reply. Apparently they would have to wait and see to find out if all this was completely true. "Very well Albus," was the only reply she could muster.  
  
Albus in turn looked over at Harry. "If you could excuse us Harry, the staff has a lot to discuss concerning you. I am sure that one Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger are waiting outside the door ready to commit a murder that never happened. Good night."  
  
A new fear encompassed Harry as he walked out amongst the staring of his teachers. Ron and Hermione were defiantly going to hurt him a very great deal. He would not be getting sleep or food anytime soon.  
  
Author's Note: Ok, I hope you all did not get to confused. If you did I am terribly sorry. I will try to fix it next time, or not. Who knows?  
  
Next Chapter:  
  
-Be the forewarned Harry Potter 


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